Poem January 16, 1937 Issue

Morning

ELLA A. STONE

Sometimes the night seems long and drear,
But morning brings the sun's bright beams;
Then we forget the hours of night
With all their troubled thought and dreams.

The morning with its roselit dawn,
And joyous bird songs in the air,
With blossoms swaying in the breeze,
Makes earth seem happy, sweet, and fair.

Glad morning, symbol of the light
Of everlasting, healing Love
That shines upon us tenderly
From our dear Father's face above,

You bring to us the happy thought,
The promise that we too shall be
Like the bright morning, fresh and fair,
In radiant joy and purity.

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January 16, 1937
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